


A Night of Chocolate and Wine

by MustardGal



Series: Lavender and Daggers [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MustardGal/pseuds/MustardGal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor is a busy man, struggling to find that balance between being an Inquisitor and a lover.  He fears he's starting to lose Dorian, so he starts to find ways in order to show just how much Dorian means to him - until the Iron Bull rushes in and says Dorian's in trouble.  What kind of trouble?  Not the kind the Inquisitor expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night of Chocolate and Wine

           There was something different about Dorian that Kievon couldn’t quite put his finger on.  The warm smile, the tender gaze, the kind, soothing words… it was a bit off.  A bit different.  Dorian may have thought he was being sneaky, but his distracted, far off gaze when he thought Kievon wasn’t looking was a large part of the concern.  Every time Kievon went to go visit him in the study, their stolen kisses had been very passionate and warm, but… aloof.  Hell, ever since they arrived back at Skyhold since meeting Dorian’s father and kindly telling him to fuck off, Dorian has been all the more distracted, but seemingly happy.

            A little too happy, in fact. 

            Something was up, and Kievon was insistent in finding out.

            The two had done little more than pleasure each other the past couple of weeks, but they hadn’t exactly fully made love.  Maybe Kievon was being too distant himself?  His duties of Inquisitor required him to be on his feet all day, making sure everyone was fine, observing the soldiers and their progress, discussing their battle strategy with the advisors… it left little time for Kievon to care for himself. 

            In fact, that morning he had spent the whole time on his throne, deliberating sentences to the guilty people brought it.  It wasn’t easy; he had sent one man to death that morning after spending all morning trying to figure out why the man had done what he was accused of – a red templar who had massacred several little children in some small, god forsaken town.  The man was wild, and practically insane.  Killing him would benefit even himself.

            With a sigh, he brought his thoughts back to the present.  He currently sat in his room at his desk, hiding away from the rest of the world with an open letter on his desk.  His clan asking him to be safe, asking him to return home when it was all over. 

            Easier said than done. 

            He missed them terribly, but… the Inquisition had done nothing but opened his eyes to the possibilities of the world. 

            He would make that decision when it came to it.  For now, he had to deal with a moody mage, and figure out how. Maybe Kievon _liked_ the idea of having Dorian hanging around, with someone to kiss and pleasure at his beck and call.  But he hadn’t dragged him to bed yet.  Just a few nights ago he had told Dorian of his past husband, may the gods rest his soul – and he had seemed to handle the news well. 

            But ever since then he’d been distant.  Stayed in his old quarters, minding his own business… Kievon had to question him.  They were due to leave for the Winter Palace just the next day, and he needed Dorian to be, well, normal again. 

            Maybe he wasn’t doing enough for Dorian.  Maybe he needed convincing that Kievon actually cared for him.  Maybe he needed to woo him? 

            Wooed.  He hadn’t wooed anyone for a long, long time.  Back then, it had been a simple thing of gathering flowers, picnics in the forest, and wild moonlit rides.  None of that was possible here, not with them always constantly on the move. 

            Maybe Varric would know what he should do? 

            With a sigh, Kievon stood up from his desk and left his room, his feet silently clicking against the stone stairs.  He was dressed in a normal shirt and trousers today, as his regular clothes were out for a final wash before he had to wear them for long period of time again.  He left his room and nodded to those who acknowledged him as he passed. 

            Skyhold was always full of nobles or regular folk who had invested their time in making sure Skyhold and the Inquisition succeed, and they were always occupying the halls of the fortress.  Most of them went through Josephine first, the creators bless her soul.  She was a gift sent from the heavens when it came to dealing with politics Kievon had no time for.

            Varric sat at his usual table, a pile of letters in front of him. He looked up from his writing and a smile spread on his face.  “And what can I do for you, Inquisitor?”

            “I just need some advice,” Kievon said, keeping his voice low.  “And it has to do with Dorian.”

            With a short chuckle Varric set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.  “I figured something was up.  What’s the deal?”

            “He’s not… I don’t know.  I feel like I’m losing him,” Kievon shrugged.  He leaned in on his elbows, head downcast.  “I’m beginning to think our relationship might not have been the greatest idea.  We’ve gotten nowhere.”

            “What? Perish the thought,” Varric waved a hand.  “There isn’t one here who would agree on that.  Have you seen the way the two of you look at each other when the other isn’t looking?  I swear, Dorian makes Fenris look second-rate.  In fact, Hawke and he went through the same exact thing.”

            “And what exactly is our ‘thing?’”   

            “Time to adjust.  Time to accept.  Fenris was an ass and left Hawke without so much as an explanation, which sent Hawke into a depression and frankly, it was just sad. Dorian just pushed his father away for good and is coping with it best he can, and maybe distance is what he requires for a bit.”  Varric inspected his nails absently.  “Here’s Dorian, far from home, in a country contrary to the beliefs he was brought up to believe.  And there’s you: Everything he desires he could be.”

            “Do you think he doesn’t feel like he should be with me?  That he’s not in my league, or something?”  Kievon ran a tired hand through his hair.  He had always felt he couldn’t compare to Dorian, who was a powerful mage and from a powerful family, with a quick wit and handsome face. 

            Varric gave a long nod.  “That could be it.”

            “What should I do?”

            “Don’t give up on him,” Varric said simply, picking up his pen again.

            “I don’t plan to.  I just needed help figuring out what he’s been up to the past few days.” 

            “Your relationship has just started.  Give it time.  Nothing’s easy, Inquisitor.”

            “You’re right about that.  Thank you, Varric.”  Kievon left for the lower levels of Skyhold, feeling ever more reassured about his lover.  All it was is a rough patch, and he had to be there for Dorian when he needed him.  First, he would have to devise a plan.  A gift of sorts – one the kitchen could prepare.

            The head cook, Linave, stood over the stove, stirring their soup.  She looked up from her work, her face heated red from the steam.  “Inquisitor!  Whatever can I do for you?”

            A couple days ago Dorian had brought him an assortment of breakfast so they could spend the day together, but Kievon had been pulled away on Inquisitor duties.  Perhaps he could start to make it up to him.  “Have we still got the chocolate, Linave?”

            “Oh yes, Inquisitor, I’ve been saving it up for something special.”

            “I think tonight’s a good night to use it.  Can you set up a large plate of different pastries, chocolates, cheese – anything fancy?  And pull up your finest bottle of wine.”  Kievon turned to leave, then looked back.  “Make that two bottles of wine.  Have them delivered to my room just before dinner.”

            “Aye,” Linave said with a twinkle in her eye. 

            There was that, at least.  He wandered down through the stone halls and went to the vault, which was constantly watched over by a guard.  Kievon had a couple more ideas up his sleeve – Dorian liked books, which Kievon had found plenty of.  He always sent books back with soldiers to Skyhold during his travels, and some he kept in his room.  He would gather those and wrap them up to give to him just before dinner.

            But here in the vault he kept his most precious valuables.  There was a staff that had caught his eye once, from before he had met Dorian.  Magic and the staffs were foreign to him, but it was a sight to behold: a pure gold staff, with a dragon perched on the tip, golden wings spread out.  It was quite a beautiful staff and he had kept it ever since.

            He grabbed it, nodded to the guards, then stealthfully made his way to his quarters.  He hadn’t had much chance to explore Skyhold and see all the hidden doorways and passageways, so he had to make sure the hall was clear of Dorian before he crossed it. He peeked out from around the door, seeing only masked nobles, then he crossed over to his room.  The large cupboard in his room would hide it for now.

            Lastly, he was going to give him something that Kievon has always had.  Besides the vallaslin on his face, he had always worn a pure gold earring.  It was the only thing of his father’s he had.  Without hesitation he undid the earring and grabbed a thin strap from his dresser, tying a small knot. There.  A necklace.

            Maybe Dorian wouldn’t like it.  It wasn’t exactly his sort of style.  Maybe he would think this was too much for him, too soon.

            Kievon sighed and rolled his neck, popping out a kink.  He had to stop worrying so much.  He looked to the sky and glanced at the darkening sunset; not long until dinner.  He would need to find Dorian and bring him up to his quarters. 

            “Boss!”  The Iron Bull shouted from the end of the stairway.  “Boss!”

            Kievon tucked the necklace in his pocket and darted to the stairway, marching down as quick as he could. “What is it?  What’s the matter?”

            “It’s Dorian, he’s…”

            “He’s what?” Kievon demanded.  “Take me to him.”

            “This way, boss.”  The Iron Bull, shoulders hunched in what, defeat?  Worry?  What had happened to him? 

            The two of them raced through the halls, the nobles turned their heads in curiosity as the two of them ran.  The night air was just settling around them, with the one lone star starting to speckle the sky.  They darted down the stairs and Iron Bull led him towards the tavern. 

            “He’s not injured, is he?”

            “Ah, no,” the Iron Bull coughed, stopping in front of the closed tavern doors.  “You’d better go see for yourself.”

            “What’re you playing at?” Kievon raised an eyebrow, suspecting some foul play at work.  The Iron Bull merely shrugged, smirked, and left him alone. 

            Something was awry.  With a deep breath, the Inquisitor opened the door and peeked in.  It was unusually dark, save for candles – hundreds of them, all lit out and strewn about the room.  Not a single soul was in the tavern, which was unusually odd. Krem was gone from his usual corner, the minstrel was gone, and…

            Dorian stood in the middle of the tavern, hands on hips, dressed in a loose shirt tucked into dark trousers.  His tall boots gleamed in the firelight of the candles, and he had a wide grin on his face. 

            “What in the-” Kievon breathed.  He felt the Iron Bull’s hand on his back push him farther inside the tavern, and then the Qunari closed the door behind him, leaving the two men alone amidst all the candles.  “Dorian?”

            “You’re a hard man to pin down,” Dorian wagged a finger at him.  “I couldn’t even have your attention for a day.  Our meals were always done in haste.  We couldn’t hold a long conversation, and here I am, trying to win your heart but finding it’s nearly impossible.  I’ve been planning this ever since our day was stolen away by Josephine.”

            Kievon ran a hand through his hair, finally relaxing.  “You rented out the tavern?”

            “For the whole night.  The Chargers and the usual riffraff are off doing other things tonight.  Dinner is prepared and waiting, Inquisitor, as is our wine.  I heard you were trying to sneak a plate of food to your room before dinner, so I kindly asked Linave to bring it here instead.”  Dorian waved to the table behind him, where two full plates of food were set, along with wine glasses and chocolate treats.  “The cookies are provided by Sera, though I’m afraid she took over half of them.”    

            Kievon hadn’t budged from his spot, still slightly overwhelmed by what he was seeing.

            “Kievon?”  Dorian said, nervousness apparent in his voice.

            “It’s just…” Kievon looked around the room, from the candles, the dinner, the rose petals he’d just noticed strewn about the floor, and finally to the handsome Tevinter mage standing in the middle of the room.  “Here I thought you were pushing away.  That I was losing you.  And I was coming up with a billion different ways to woo you.”

            “Woo me?  Oh _amatus,_ you don’t need to woo me.  I’m already, well, wooed, as you so put it.  Though I wouldn’t protest against you wooing me more, as I am pretty much the best thing you could woo…” Dorian trailed off and shrugged.  “But, let us continue!  Fine Orlesian cheese and wine, along with your favorite of steamed veggies, chicken, a dash of fruit, and of course, chocolate.  Which you provided, really.  I hadn’t thought of the chocolate part.”

            Kievon smiled and approached Dorian, kissing him lightly on the cheek.  “You’re the best.”

            “I know, but don’t hesitate to tell me again!”

            Together the two of them sat at the table and just… talked.  They let loose the words they hadn’t told anyone. It was as the words poured out easily then – Dorian discussed his early childhood in Tevinter, telling of the horrid teachers he had, or the mischief he got into.  Kievon responded by telling him of his own adventures, explaining that he and the other Dalish children got into trouble almost every single day.  They told each other of their worries, their life, and their future goals. 

            And they told each other of their first loves – Dorian, with another Altus noble just a few years older than him.  He mentioned how he had always felt different from the other children.  A rebel, basically, and he discovered it at quite a young age.  Once it was known throughout the Altus nobles about his peculiar taste in men, it was easier to scope out the few men who felt the same.

            “It was just sex that mattered to them,” Dorian sighed, taking a sip of his wine, the plate in front of him completely empty of food.  “Just plain, rough sex.  Whether or not the other men actually loved me, I doubt it.  Love between men was, well, plainly put, shameful.  It didn’t exist, and I wanted it to.  I gave my heart away once, only to have it shattered in response.  I was nothing more than a toy, and that hurt.  That’s part of the reason my father sought to change me.  He wasn’t happy who I turned out to be, and I just had to get out of that environment.”

            He turned his eyes up, the candlelight reflecting in his brown eyes.  He took a slow bite of a piece of chocolate.  “What about you?  Was it always accepted for you?”

            Kievon poured some more wine in his glass, trying to keep his hand and words steady.  “It’s not uncommon among my clan.  Arrith and I grew up together; our mothers were close.  We traveled around together and we were barely separated throughout our whole lives.  We were teenagers when we admitted our feelings for one another.  My mother was more than happy for us, as were his parents.”

            “Was he your only romantic involvement?”

            “I admit I dabbled with another woman from another clan, once, about a year after Arrith’s death.  Not too sure what became of her.”  Kievon took a long gulp of his wine, finally starting to feel the effects after his last glass.  “Does that bother you?”

            “No.  I can’t understand the attraction – beautiful creatures, but alas, I think I know my type.” Dorian chuckled, leaning back in his seat.  “And right now, it’s short, red-haired, powerful elven men.  I don’t think there’s anyone here who fits that description but you, so count yourself lucky.”

            “Oh, I do.”

            “Well, do you think we should take the wine up to your room?” Dorian grabbed the unopened wine bottle.  “That’s a room I have yet to fully explore, and only you can allow me to explore it.  If you catch my meaning.”

            “What, and here isn’t good enough?” Kievon challenged. 

            Dorian’s eyebrows lifted, then he broke out with a mischievous grin.  “I like the way you think, but I promised we’d only be here till midnight.”

            Kievon took another long gulp of the wine, set it aside and stood up, his vision dancing a little.  The wine was affecting him more than he had thought.  He moved gingerly over to Dorian and pushed the table aside, moving to straddle his legs over the Tevinter’s lap.  He put his arms around the man’s shoulders and planted a firm kiss on him. 

            “It can’t be midnight yet, can it?”

            “Midnight will just have to wait,” Dorian huffed, his voice husky.  He returned a kiss in full, forcing Kievon’s mouth of open with his tongue.  They breathed in each other’s scent and ran their hands over each other’s bodies, undoing clothing briskly as they went. 

            They broke their kiss to yank their shirts off one by one, laughing as Dorian struggled to get one wrist out of a sleeve hole.  Impatient, Kievon distracted him with another kiss against his shoulder, then trailed down his arm.

            With a growl Dorian pushed him off his lap, stood and pushed him against the table, which skidded against the floor with a screech, sending them both falling forward in an awkward heap.

            “Ow,” Kievon muttered as his head had bonked against the edge of the table, but apparently the fall hadn’t phased Dorian, who was working on the straps in Kievon’s trousers.  They worked together to dislodge the remaining articles of clothing in the way, hands caressing, breaths coming in gasps, and bodies starting to sweat.

            It was a primal desire between the two of them.  Kievon reached out to caress his lover’s erectness, causing Dorian to pause in his ministrations.  With a slight snarl Dorian pushed Kievon down and continued his kisses along the Inquisitor’s skin.  He moved with an expert hand, caressing Kievon’s own length with ease, causing the Inquisitor to shiver with anticipation.  His stomach fluttered as Dorian planted kisses and continued to tease, then Kievon rolled onto his stomach with a huff.  Dorian was taking too long, he kept teasing him with that tongue of his –

            “Ah, fuck,” Kievon whispered when Dorian entered him, first with fingers, pushing them in and out, hands on Kievon’s hips.  Just when he felt he was about to burst, Dorian entered him ever so slowly.  Bodies covered in sweat, Dorian made ever slow thrusts while whispering the Inquisitor’s name.

            There was a slight pain quickly replaced with lust and pleasure with each thrust from Dorian.  Kievon had nearly forgotten how wonderful it felt; the raw pleasure of skin against skin, the excitement it came with.  Dorian began to speed up his thrusting, his breaths shortening.  He leaned over the Inquisitor, his lips near his ear, “Maker, _amatus_ , you’re heavenly.”

            With a slight gasp from the both of them, Dorian paused at the moment of release, his body sweaty and glowing in the fire light.  Kievon rolled onto his back, chest heaving from the excitement.  The two of them took in deep breaths, eyeing each other gleefully, Dorian from his position of leaning over the Inquisitor.  He leaned down and planted a solid kiss, then settled down next to him.

            Kievon trailed his fingers from Dorian’s belly to the outline of his chest.  “Say, how about… we take this to my room?  I can show you that place you were interested, among others…  There’s a couch I’ve been interested in trying something on…”

            “I can imagine.  Let’s grab the wine, and go.”

            Together the two of them wiped themselves off and threw on their clothes, laughing and tying each other’s trousers and tucking in each other’s shirts.  They had made a mess of the table, and amidst their stupor they tried to straighten it back. 

            “Do you think they’re out there?” Kievon asked, peeking out a window. 

            “Oh, possibly.”

            “We have to sneak back, then!” Kievon declared suddenly, holding the bottle of wine close to him.  “They can’t see us!”

            “Kievon, dear, it’s going to be difficult…”

            “Shh!”

            “How much wine did you drink?”

            Kievon peeked out the window and saw no one, but it was practically impossible as night had fallen long ago, and not many torches were lit.  “It’s clear,” he whispered and grabbed Dorian’s hand.

            “Lead on, Inquisitor!”

            Together they held on tight to each other and cradled the wine closely, sneaking in the shadows and watching for any sudden movements.  Through the front doors wasn’t the wisest choice as there was always someone awake and guarding. 

            “We have to scale the garden wall,” Kievon said, preparing to jump up.

            “Woah!” Dorian protested and grabbed him by the shoulders in mid-jump. “Alright, my nimble Inquisitor, you may be able to climb that, but I am not.  I suggest we take a risk and go through the front doors.”

            Kievon pursed his lips.  “Fine.”  His thoughts were cloudy, so he let Dorian lead him up the steps and through the large doors.  The guard standing at the door waved them through, his face expressionless.  The hall was dimly lit, the fires having died down in the night.  Varric was gone from his usual post, Kievon realized.

            They reached the Inquisitor’s room without much of a fuss.  “See, that wasn’t so hard,” Dorian mentioned.  He opened the door and pushed Kievon lightly through, making sure the door was shut behind him. 

            “Now, where were we?” Dorian said.

            Kievon leaned in for a kiss, then allowed himself to be dragged up to his bed – soon to be _their_ bed – and let Dorian ravish him the rest of the night, exploring the bed, the couch, creating quite a mess.  They shared the bottle of wine until it was empty, laughing at the small things, finding each other’s ticklish spot.  They rolled around in bed until their sweaty bodies couldn’t handle the excitement anymore.

            Kievon was unsure of who fell asleep first, but when he woke the next morning, Dorian was still asleep, the blankets pulled tightly around him as if he was dying of cold.  He slightly snored, which Kievon thought was the most adorable thing ever.  His mustache had gotten very unkempt during the night, twisted this way and that. 

            Was there a ringing in his ears?  Or was that just from the pounding headache he had?  He didn’t know. It was worth it, looking at the beautiful man sharing his bed.  With a content smile, he crammed under the covers next to Dorian and prepared to do something evil: he placed his cold feet against the small of Dorian’s back, which woke him instantly.

            “By the maker!” Dorian huffed and rolled away with a speed Kievon hadn’t thought possible.  He fell to the floor in a heap of blankets and a large groan.

            “Morning, precious,” Kievon said, leaning over the bed.  He reached down and twirled his fingers on Dorian’s bare chest. 

            “You’re so rude!”  Dorian growled and reached up, grabbing Kievon’s arm and pulled him down with a firm yank, much to his protest.  He rolled on top of him and pinned him down.  “Just for that…” he tickled Kievon’s sides with ferocity.

            Kievon laughed and tried to kick him off, but the taller man was just too strong.  “Stop!  Stop!” he gasped out in between laughter.  “I concede!  You win!”

            “I always win.”  Dorian stopped tickling and silenced the still protesting Inquisitor with a kiss. 

            A knock sounded on the door, which creaked as someone walked in.  “Inquisitor!” It was Josephine.  “The horses are prepped and everyone is ready and waiting!  We leave for the Winter Palace whenever you are ready!”

            “Yes, Josephine!  We’ll be right down!” Kievon called out, a bit saddened their frolicking had come to an end.  Idly, the two of them stood and gathered their belongs. 

            Dorian tugged on his pants.  “Alas, my pack and staff is in my other room.”

            “Oh!  That reminds me!”  Kievon rushed over to his large cupboard and pulled out the staff.  He turned to Dorian happily.  “This is for you!”

            “It’s… beautiful.”

            “It’s infused with electricity runes, as well.  I know those are your favorite spells.”

            Dorian took the staff from him, admiring it.  “That they are.  Thank you.”

            “And one more thing!” Kievon reached into his pocket and pulled out his earring.  “I want you to have this.”

            “I was wondering where your earring went.  But, why?”

            Kievon flushed, hoping he could get his feelings across.  “It may be a bit foolish, but I can’t always be there for you.  I have duties that I sometimes struggle to get away from.  This earring was worn by my father.  He always wanted to me to be true to myself – just as I want to be true to you.  You don’t have to wear it, but I want to have it.”

            Dorian turned the earring in his hand, admiring the gold work.  He clasped it in his hand and closed his eyes, holding the fist to his lips.  “I think this is the best gift you could have given me, _amatus_.  It’s a piece of you I shall cherish, and hold close to my heart.”  He put the necklace around his neck, the earring just dangling above his heart.

            It pleased Kievon to see he had accepted it so well and an overwhelming mixture of feelings rushed over him.  Unbidden tears crept in his eyes and he wiped them away bashfully.  “How silly of me, I’m sorry.” 

            “Oh, Kievon.”  Dorian pulled him close, and they stood there for a minute, breathing in each other and relying on each other’s strengths.  “You’ve made me so happy.  Do you know that?”

            “You’ve done the same to me,” Kievon mumbled into his shoulder. 

            “I’m glad we’ve both discovered how wonderful we both are.  Now, how about we get ready and go surprise people at the Winter Palace, shall we?  I can point out all the fashion disasters, and you can once again save the world. Sound like a plan?”

            “As long as you’re by my side, yes.  Yes, it does.”

              

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Writing smut isn't exactly my forte, but I darn well tried! :D


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